Fearless: The Anonymous Chronicles

By Angela Prusia

Mia hates being caught in a game of tug of war. Torn between popularity and her longtime friends, she's tired of being jerked back and forth.

Then a car accident rocks Mia's world, changing everything.

Her appearance.

Her social standing.

Her confidence.

Rejected and afraid, Mia longs to disappear.

Her friend Bronwyn tries to help, but she has big problems of her own. Her abusive father has broken his restraining order. Now Bronwyn and her sister are terrorized by the thought he will hurt them again.

While Bronwyn faces the trial of her life, Mia must choose between fear or following her dreams. Will anxiety paralyze both girls, or will they learn to embrace life again?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Angela Prusia
• Release date: Jun 10, 2020
• ISBN: 9781393148845

Book preview

Prologue

June 2013

Spindly tree limbs creaked in the wind. Their eerie shadows spread across the canvas tent like ominous tentacles ready to curl around Bronwyn’s neck and strangle her. A woeful howl rose above the drone of insects, making goosebumps blotch her flesh.

Bronwyn buried herself deep inside her sleeping bag only to feel the suffocating weight press against her thudding heart. Nights exaggerated her fears. Ever since Mama called with the news, Bronwyn had gotten little sleep. Her father had posted bail.

Dilated brown pupils searched the dark. The rhythmic breathing of her friends did little to soothe Bronwyn. She kicked herself for leaving Mama and Kenzie to go to Jackson Hole, Wyoming. Agreeing to join her friends on a camping trip had been a mistake—even if she hadn’t seen the girls in over a year and a half.

Mama had filed a temporary restraining order against her father, but he was too powerful. What if he came after them? Bronwyn needed to go home. An eight-hour drive separated her from her mother and little sister.

She’d never forgive herself if he hurt them.

The walls of the tent threatened to smother Bronwyn. She had to escape.

Bronwyn slipped out of the nest of warmth and sidestepped the jumbled knot of legs and arms that made up her friends. Careful not to make noise, she unzipped the door on the tent and stepped outside.

Cool mountain air filled Bronwyn’s lungs as she stared at an indigo sky pierced with innumerable stars. A shooting star streaked the surface. Out here—away from the monster—she could almost relax and forget her fears.

The chill demanded a blanket, but Bronwyn didn’t want to wake her friends or the Maj. He slept in a tent opposite the girls. She padded toward the fire ring and sat on a lawn chair, hugging her knees to conserve body heat.

A tendril of smoke rose from the dying embers. Roasting marshmallows had been an adventure with Bing. The girl should be banned from fire. She was an accident waiting to happen.

Thoughts of her friends always brought a smile. Bronwyn had met Bing, Teegan, Mia, Hoot, and Rooster during try-outs on the middle school basketball court. Despite her attempt to distance herself, Bronwyn couldn’t help but love the girls.

She didn’t want to ruin the trip for her friends, but what choice did she have? Mama and Kenzie needed her.

Bronwyn exhaled, and the puff of air condensed in a small cloud. Rooster would be disappointed. This camping trip had been a gift from the Maj after his deployment to Afghanistan. Rooster could’ve chosen to do anything with her dad, and she’d invited the girls.

Bronwyn had never been on a real vacation. Life on the run didn’t allow for distractions. She didn’t want to miss white water rafting, but at least they’d already been rock climbing and fly fishing. Bronwyn even caught a fish the first time she’d snapped the line into the current.

Anger threatened to choke her airway. Why did he always have to ruin everything? Her father was the reason they had to keep moving every few months. The reason Mama couldn’t keep a steady job. The reason Bronwyn and her sister went hungry. The reason they spent time on the streets.

The monster wouldn’t give up. Even after five years, he continued to stalk them.  

Bronwyn wanted to scream.

Would she ever be free to live a normal life?

Chapter One

June 2013

Ididn’t want to be the chicken in the group. But my brain wouldn’t stop replaying all the YouTube videos I’d watched before our trip.

Rafts overturning.

People flying overboard.

Or my personal favorite—the guide explaining the waiver you had to sign regarding the dangers inherent in white water rafting. Why would any sane person agree to sign his or her death certificate?

I, for one, did not have a fatal wish.

Rooster and Teegan lived for this type of thrill, Bing was oblivious to danger, Hoot was too much of a peacemaker to rock the boat (pun intended), and Bronwyn was too distracted with bigger worries to concern herself with dying. Just convincing her to stay on the trip for our remaining 24 hours together had been a minor miracle after her father had posted bail.

Who could blame Bronwyn for wanting to cut our vacation short? Her fear was real.

I hopped out of the minivan the Maj had rented for our motley group and followed the others inside the outfitters.

Breathe in, Mia. Breathe out.

I had to talk myself out of a full-blown panic attack when the river guide briefed us on safety.

Bronwyn stood off to the side, a haunted look in her eyes.

You okay? I pushed my fears aside and tried to put myself in her shoes. She and her mother and sister had tried to escape her father for over five years. His recent arrest had finally brought relief until an incompetent judge released him on bail.

Didn’t the guy wielding the gavel read the police report? Bronwyn’s father had pulled a knife on her mother. The unfairness was enough to persuade me to study law rather than fashion design—my top two career choices. The injustice infuriated me.

The Maj called his friend on the police force, I tried to reassure Bronwyn. There’s nothing you can do for your mother and Kenzie.

Tears welled her eyes. I should be home with them.

You will be. I squeezed Bronwyn’s hand. We leave tomorrow morning.

Loading the outfitters’ bus ended our conversation and kicked my brain into overdrive once again.

The rapids on the Snake River were classified as Class II-III rapids during normal water conditions, but researching the description of Class V-VI rapids had been a mistake. My memory was practically photographic when it came to details such as rescue conditions are difficult or warning: significant hazard to life can result in the event of a mishap. Terror ignited my nerves.

I gripped the seat when the bus pulled to a stop. My throat contracted to a pinhole.

Breathe in, Mia. Breathe out.

The sound of water made my heart race. The guide promised the first half of the trip was fairly mellow, but that didn’t stop my ears from magnifying the sound of gurgling water to a rushing torrent of trepidation.

I tried not to think about jagged rocks below the surface and secured my life jacket. Just looking at the water made me shiver.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The Maj helped the guide unload the bright yellow raft, and I strapped on my helmet.

Rooster whistled at my life jacket/helmet ensemble. Work it, girl.

I stuck out my tongue. I’d forgo fashion any day to save my skull from getting dashed on the rocks. Of course Rooster had her own wetsuit. The girl could pose for the cover of an outdoor magazine.

You ready for this? Hoot smiled, making me envy her ability to relax. I felt like I could hurl. The Maj’s gourmet outdoor breakfast of pancakes and bacon settled like a rock in my stomach.

Bing waded at the river’s edge in her water shoes, making Teegan grab her before she did a face-plant into the water. The girl could hurt herself without even trying.

We need a selfie. Hoot pulled out her phone, and the others squeezed together. Come on, Mia.

I took a tentative step, sure my wobbly legs would give way. Tanning beside a pool beat rushing rapids. How had my friends ever convinced me to join their insanity?

Let me get it. The Maj reached for Hoot’s phone, and five more hands jutted out. Can you take one for me, too?

I slipped beside Bronwyn, happy to see the smile which finally graced her face. I inhaled. If she could be brave, so could I.

Swear you won’t post that on Instagram.

The picture highlighted the best in my friends, but did nothing for me with my sickly green color. Bing with her long eyelashes and full head of envious red curls. Lanky Teegan with her athletic build and zero percent body fat. Petite Hoot with her ebony skin and beaded braids. Bronwyn with her chocolate brown eyes and smattering of freckles. Rooster with her perfect tan and natural highlights from spending every waking moment outdoors. And me. I looked like I could pee my pants. I was a complete wreck.

Teegan and Rooster slapped hands, oblivious to my picture woes. This is going to be so fun.

I forced a smile as another raft launched into the river. Two kids waved from the center, their laughter filling the air. One thing was certain: this adventure would definitely be one for the memory books.

You okay? Hoot squeezed my hand, her braces glinting in the light. She was counting down the days until she got the metal out of her mouth.

Fine, I squeaked as we boarded the raft.

My friends grabbed oars and took the front seats, but I planted myself firmly in the middle as close to the guide as possible. No paddling for me.

Any final questions? he asked before we pushed off. I couldn’t even focus on the cute dimple that showed when he smiled.

One question pressed against my chest, making breathing nearly impossible.

Was I going to die?

I ALMOST WISHED I’D downed a spicy milkshake to ease my nerves. The mix of Tabasco, jalapenos and hot pepper flakes in ice cream was far from palatable, but just the thing I needed to ease my anxiety. Our good luck ritual was paramount to the start of every basketball game—and perfect for the absurdity of white water rafting.

Cold water sprayed my face, sending goosebumps down my flesh and dousing me with a memory from somewhere deep in my subconscious before my twin brothers were born. I must’ve been five or six, judging from the picture in my mind’s eye. A younger version of myself wore a pink swim suit with ruffled straps. Even then, fashion took center stage in my life.

Hold on! my cousin Enrique screamed beside me on the tube, his wide smile revealing missing teeth.

Laughter spilled from the speedboat when my uncle sped across the crystal surface, raining water on more cousins in the boat.

I clutched the straps on the tube. My hair whipped in the wind, blinding me. I needed a hair tie.

Without warning, my uncle turned hard right, and the tube flew over the wake. My body bounced against the rubber, the force nearly tossing me overboard. My uncle eased up on the gas, and the tension in the rope broke. The slack pulled at the tube, making it dip under water. I gulped a mouthful of lake water and sputtered in surprise. I sucked at oxygen that wouldn’t fill my lungs. Panic seized me. I couldn’t breathe.

Enrique flailed his arms to get my uncle’s attention. My grip relaxed. I felt myself slipping into an abyss.

Pull her out of the water! My uncle screamed. He cut the engine and yanked on the rope.

My world went black until a quick thrust made me cough up water. I stared into the face of my uncle. My cousins surrounded him, fear shadowing their pupils.

The memory flooded me with a new wave of terror as we hit the first rapid. I’d never gone tubing again. The girls thought I avoided water because I didn’t want to mess up my hair or make-up. They teased me when I worked on my tan rather than swim at the pool, but the truth was water scared me.

I muttered a string of Spanglish under my breath. My accent always got stronger when I was mad or nervous. Why had I ever agreed to this? My uncle wasn’t on the river to save me from today’s disaster. I gripped my seat. If I didn’t drown, my coronary arteries would explode. My heart pounded in my chest like a jackhammer gone mad. I’d be dead before my quinceañera next month. The invitations for my fifteenth birthday party had already been sent. I couldn’t die.

A collective shout rose from the raft. My own scream mixed with the excited voices of my friends as my stomach lurched. Water rained down around me.

Isn’t this fun?! Rooster screamed above the roar. Her gaze went from her dad’s face to mine.

Fun wasn’t the first word that came to mind, but I didn’t want to spoil her time—not when she had spent the last year away from the Maj. I managed a weak smile. I’d survived the first set of rapids. Calmer water ahead allowed my heart rate a chance to finally slow.

Isn’t it beautiful out here? The Maj scanned the rocky cliffs surrounding us. Layers of color in the rock showed nature’s timeline. If I didn’t have to go back to work, I’d extend our vacation.

Bronwyn tensed, but Rooster didn’t notice. I bet we could find some geocaches out here.

The Maj grinned. He and Rooster could spend hours trekking through the woods or pounding the pavement looking for geocaches—a treasure hunt on steroids as Rooster described her favorite adventure with her GPS. The Maj had hidden twelve caches for her to find while he was deployed to Afghanistan—one for each month of the year he was gone.

An osprey flew overhead looking for lunch. Puffy white clouds drifted across a blue sky. The scene looked like a watercolor painting on a canvas Bing would paint.

I took a deep breath and looked around at my friends seated in the raft. Since the day we met on the basketball court at the YMCA, one look could carry an entire conversation.

The tension in Rooster’s face was gone now that her father was home. Seeing her clomp down the stairs in her combat boots straight into the Maj’s arms was a moment I’ll never forget. Especially since I’d never seen Rooster in a dress. Her mom found a seamstress to sew the cutest camouflage formal with olive green spaghetti straps for the military kids’ ball.

Hoot held onto Bing so the girl didn’t topple into the churning waters. There was never a dull moment with Bing. Her impulsive nature got her into a lot of trouble, but also made her loads of fun. With support from the girls and her love for art, the sadness which tinged Bing’s eyes had retreated since her parents’ divorce.

Hoot had left her binoculars in the van so they wouldn’t get swept away in the current. Otherwise our resident animal fanatic would be scanning the banks for wildlife. The girl held the record for the most elk and moose sightings since our trip began, and she was determined to see a mama bear and her cub. Hoot had a huge heart for all things furry or feathered.

Bronwyn looked miserable. If only she hadn’t got the call about her father. She’d been having so much fun on our trip, even surprising us with a solo on a long stretch of highway where we’d been singing silly songs to pass the time. Watching Bronwyn slowly shed the weight of the last five years reminded me of the painted lady butterfly I’d released into the wild from the mesh butterfly habitat I’d ordered online.  As much as I wanted to help the butterfly break free from its cocoon, the struggle was critical. Without the fight, the butterfly’s wings would be too weak. The painted lady would die.

Still, I couldn’t help but wish Bronwyn could avoid the struggle. Ever since she’d learned the news that her father had posted bail, Bronwyn had retreated inside herself.

Spending the last year and a half apart had been rough, especially without any communication. We didn’t even know Bronwyn and Kenzie had spent time on the streets until we learned the monster had been jailed. Before that, all social media had been forbidden. It had been safest that way.

Until he posted bail.

Seeing Teegan sling her arm around Bronwyn reminded me how much I missed the girls. We’d been so close once Teegan got over her jealousy regarding Bronwyn’s skill on the court. The weekly sleepovers, the easy way we once connected, the inside jokes. Now an invisible wall loomed between us. We didn’t talk about it, even tried to ignore it. But it was still there, even if the girls had included me on this trip.

I was to blame mostly.

I dropped basketball our freshman year to join the color guard. My choice had been a felony, according to Teegan. But trying to explain my feelings to her was impossible. She didn’t want to hear how the sport began to choke me. Or how I wanted to explore new interests. Discover more of myself.

My choice had driven a wedge between me and the girls. Sometimes I regretted my decision, but I loved color guard too much to reverse my course.

Teegan had taken the news the hardest. The girl breathed basketball, especially with her dad as the high school coach. The two of them had dreamed of taking the state championship since Teegan was in diapers.

Weekly sleepovers with the girls ranked just below basketball. Friday nights were sacred. Before high school, I’d only missed one sleepover in four years—and that was because I had the chicken pox. Since our freshman year, I’d missed every other week. Sometimes more.

I chose my new color guard friends over the girls more times than I cared to admit. Being together now was a painful reminder of my betrayal. I still couldn’t believe Rooster had even invited me on the camping trip.

A low rumble made goosebumps prickle my flesh. I craned my neck to see another set of rapids up ahead.

Hooah! the Maj yelled out the Army mantra. He and Rooster slapped hands, making me envy their relaxed manner in the face of danger. No wonder he made a great soldier.

Paddle, our guide barked as we dipped and dove through the rushing water. If I liked roller coaster rides or water slides, I would’ve been in heaven. Instead, I closed my eyes and focused on the cute shops I’d seen in town. Wandering around the clothing racks and finding the perfect outfit was my idea of fun.

The rest of the trip passed in similar fashion—every rapid propelled me to my happy place among the shopping carts in my mind. I’d noticed a thrift store on our drive into town. Vintage clothing was my specialty. The girls always said I could find a runway sensation among the racks of Goodwill.

Maybe I could convince the girls to humor me. Teegan and Rooster were far from shoppers, but I had gone along with their adventure.

It was time to give me my shopping fix. This fashionista needed more than fresh air and the great outdoors.

She needed to shop.

SOMEHOW I PERSUADED the Maj to give us one hour to shop while he gassed up the van and grabbed sandwiches for lunch. He tapped his watch—his signal that he’d hold me to the time—so I saluted and did an about face into the first store on the street. I had a mission to accomplish.

Rooster laughed. "You’d be giving manicures at boot camp if you joined the